


And Tomorrow Too

by PrittlePrince



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Size Kink, Unexpected feelings, falling fast, johnny falls in love too easily is my favourite trope, mediocre communication, tindr dates, top sub youngho | johnny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25008268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrittlePrince/pseuds/PrittlePrince
Summary: John finds much more than a casual hookup in Xiaojun.
Relationships: Suh Youngho | Johnny/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 13
Kudos: 154
Collections: NCT SPICE FIC EXCHANGE





	And Tomorrow Too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [camboyyukhei (redmaynes)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmaynes/gifts).



> This is a gift for [camboyyukhei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmaynes/pseuds/camboyyukhei) for NCT Spice fic exchange!
> 
> It’s a little different from your prompt, as I can’t help but make John the one that pines because he’s just _built_ that way!!
> 
> This is a pwp through and through, rough and fast and shameless. Enjoy!!

John tastes blood, he’s sure of it, and backing up against the faded wallpaper has left his skull aching. It all kind of disappears, though, under the heat of hands exploring his waist, his cock through his jeans. Urgency keeping him from thinking about it, from worrying about anything at all. 

He’s dizzy with sex-brain. His date is all long legs and gorgeous eyes and a sinful mouth that doesn’t _stop_ -

“Urgh,” John grunts, head hitting the wall a second time as Xiaojun palms him through denim. His mouth is hot over John’s throat and will be even hotter circling his cock, John knows. He squeezes his eyes shut, gasping as he fills out in Xiaojun’s hand. He’d made Johnny mad with lust before they’d even met, and Johnny sure in this moment that he isn’t destined to survive the night.

“I love the sounds you make, all turned-on and helpless,” and John _is_ helpless to Xiaojun’s inane babbling, his shameless handjob in the dark hallway of what Johnny remembers is _his_ apartment— why are they still in the hallway, again?

“Bed. Now,” he huffs, pushing Xiaojun back with a firm grip on his hips. It’s only enough for him to push away from one wall and to take the two steps to walk Xiaojun back against the opposite wall. He crowds him in gently, briefly, enough to kiss him, really kiss him. Hold his face and nip at his lips and earn the breathy little noises he knows he can draw from his date’s plush mouth.

Xiaojun is too hot, and Johnny can’t stand it. His smart mouth draws John’s gaze and the way his smirk makes Johnny feel a veritable zing of pleasure is _illegal_. He’s only a little bit of a brat as Johnny urges them deeper into the apartment. They nearly trip over their own feet in an effort to get their sneakers off but Johnny can only laugh as the ridiculousness, their urgency and the unexpected charm of it all.

Had Johnny met him with intentions to hook up? Sure. Had that idea gone right out the window the moment they’d met at the coffee bar? Not quite. He’d imagined intimacy, sure. Xiaojun was unequivocally kissable by nature and this was clear from the start, although Johnny wanted more. 

Maybe Johnny wanted to walk with him hand-in-hand down the boardwalk. Maybe treat him to a cute candle-lit dinner. He wondered if Xiaojun would like to maybe go out, maybe like to be his boyfriend. Maybe like to be spoiled.

Johnny’s been teased endlessly about it in the past, but it had been a while since he’d fallen hopelessly fora near-stranger, and it was due time to trust his heart again after nearly two years of Yuta’s more _selective_ approach.

Johnny had his reasons!

He was pretty sure this was one of those fairytale moments that he’d only read about and that his best friend wouldn’t judge him too harshly if he _knew_ the way Xiaojun had laughed at Johnny’s jokes, and made quite a few of his own. How he teased Johnny like he’d known him for years and the thrill of it made John’s heart race in his chest. 

When Johnny had first sidled up to him at the bar, Xiaojun had leaned forward and slid his hand into Johnny’s and said “ _thank god you’re here_ ” with a feckless grin and Johnny’s heart grew three sizes in his chest. They’d met to bone but Johnny’s pretty sure he might want to marry him, also, and he’s pretty sure if he brings it up he’s got a shot at neither.

Still, they’ve found their way back to Johnny’s apartment, leaving before Johnny had even finished his coffee because Xiaojun had said _”please”_ , in a brief lull in their conversation, and had slid his palm over Johnny’s thigh.

Johnny’s still catching his breath from that moment, but it’s impossible when the memory of it replays on the inside of his eyelids like some scene from a porno. He backs his way into his own bedroom and laughs when Xiaojun stumbles and they trip. Johnny catches them with a quick grip on the doorframe and laughs into Xiaojun’s mouth, using the leverage to draw him in close.

“Mmm,” he hums, drawing back only enough to nip at Xiaojun’s bottom lip. “How old are you?” It’s clear he’s not worried about a shocking answer- his hands continue to roam, dipping beneath Xiaojun’s simple white T-shirt as Johnny walks them backwards towards the bed.

“Twenty-four,” Xiaojun answers with a delicate tone, briefly wrestling with being bothered by the question. Johnny is looking at him like he could eat him whole, and the words come easily from his lips. 

Great, Johnny thinks. Maybe they can grow old together. “Twenty-five,” he responds, before Xiaojun can ask. He tugs at Xiaojun’s shirt and Xiaojun lifts his arms obligingly. Johnny is quick to capture his lips as soon as they are freed and Xiaojun melts under his touch. There’s tenderness there, in Johnny’s big hands framing his face, and tracing over his ribs and waist. He kisses him so slow, searching, until Xiaojun is vibrating with need, rising up in his toes with his eagerness.

He’s not used to it, and he wasn’t prepared for it. It’s one thing to instantly desire someone through an app, but seeing that desire in Johnny’s eyes, it rocks him. He’s a near-stranger yet he looks at Xiaojun with longing, and he won’t pretend that doesn’t send shivers down his spine.

Despite the urgency he feels thrumming beneath his skin, and the shake of their hands as they tug at clothing, Johnny feels happy nerves. Xiaojun is painfully beautiful to look at, and John trails his fingers around the shell of his ear to get his attention, to catch his gaze. He wants Xiaojun’s eyes on him, and when he gets his wish, he feels a fizzle in his chest, a warm ache.

“I have to be really honest with you,” he says, and his chest flutters with mild worry, but his mouth continues to run. He doesn’t want to feel like he’s tricking Xiaojun into something.

Drawn eyebrows that make him look wistful and lost, eyelashes that draw sin across the most innocent cut of his cheek, Xiaojun crosses his wrists at the base of Johnny’s spine and watches him back: expression open and considering. John aches with how close they are, but shakes his head to get rid of the cobwebs.

“I’m like… really into you. Maybe.” His eyes are wide, anxious as he runs his hand up and down a Xiaojun’s side. “Sorry if that’s like… a mood-killer. I think I should be honest about that type of thing?” His eyebrows have risen higher as he braces for some kind of reaction, but he can’t stop anxiously running his palms over Xiaojun’s hips.

Xiaojun feels pinned by his stare, but his heart doesn’t tighten with stress the way that type of declaration might normally inspire. Maybe _should_ inspire. He flattens his palms on Johnny’s chest and watches the big man take one deep, steadying breath. Xiaojun can’t help but chuckle at that. It’s charming to see John fret.

He reaches up, swiping back a few errant strands of hair that have fallen into Johnny’s eyes. He tries to look at him anew, to see the future a little like Johnny is asking him to. The wistful look on his face is that forever kind of look, and it makes Xiaojun want to take a chance, kind of. A small one.

Johnny’s more than just a hot date, that much is clear. It’s why all Xiaojun can think of is how John had easily drawn him close at their very first contact. How they had been driven together by some inescapable magnetism that had their hands finding each other far faster than either of them could have expected. How he’d wanted to preen a little, under Johnny’s attention.

“You shouldn’t pressure people like that,” he teases, but there’s a kind of delighted disbelief in his voice.The corners of his mouth curl. Johnny is nodding sagely, expression heavy with guilt. He glances up again when Xiaojun smoothes his thumb over Johnny’s chin.

“Do you make a habit of this?” Johnny’s shyness about it means it’s a question Xiaojun thinks is worth asking.

“This hasn’t been a… habit… in quite some time. I’m sorry I’m being so weird. I know I don’t know you that well yet, but I guess what I’m saying is I’d like to? We don’t have to have sex, if you don’t want-“ Johnny lifts his hands anxiously but then keeps rambling even when a Xiaojun firmly replaces his grip and sidles in a little closer with a roll of his eyes. 

“- or we could definitely, of course, just have sex I’d you want, but I figured maybe you should know that I think you’re gorgeous and like— _magnetic_ , and— ohh-“ and Johnny is quickly reminded, now, with Xiaojun’s hand finding the shape of him through his jeans and _squeezing_ , gentle, that he’d been wound tight with pleasure in the hallway. Johnny’s words stutter into a quiet groan he hides in Xiaojun’s soft black hair. 

“A-and-“ and Xiaojun palms him more forcefully until Johnny is shuddering and rising into his touch, words halting dumb and useless on his tongue. Xiaojun pulls back and finds Johnny’s gaze.

“I fingered myself before our date,” he says, voice husky but light with a smile. Johnny’s eyes widen. “Because I knew I wanted you to fuck me, when I saw you. I was… excited. Thinking about your hands on me…” Xiaojun drops his gaze between them. “And maybe that’s not romantic, but I like you…”

It’s not graceful, but sex has always made Xiaojun a little loose-lipped, and he _will_ be having sex with perfect, sweet John tonight, and he _will_ continue to struggle with his filter. He likes Johnny, and he doesn’t _not_ like how _much_ Johnny likes him.

“I like the way you stood so close at the bar, the way you smell…” and Johnny lifts his chin as Xiaojun drifts his lips over Johnny’s jaw. “Like smoke in the forest. Like leather.” Johnny’s hands tighten on his waist for a breath before releasing. Xiaojun’s voice is a soft purr against his skin.

“I want you inside of me,” and _fuck_ does Johnny melt at the words, at the curl of Xiaojun’s lips against his throat. “I want you all around me.” He tugs Johnny a little closer and those wide, warm hands circle his waist again.

“Let’s start there, hmm?”

Johnny can only agree.

Xiaojun grabs two fistfuls of John’s shirt and pulls and they softly crash into the comforter in a fit of laughter. John can’t stop watching his face, his shy little smiles and flushed cheeks. _Oh_ — John really likes him. How can he be so _pretty_?

Johnny cages him in, one hand braced against the bed, and the other curling sinfully into the dip of Xiaojun’s waist. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, because he has to. He’s not sure what he’s asking. It’s not ‘will you be my boyfriend?’, they both know that. Xiaojun doesn’t think he sees quite _that_ level of mania behind Johnny’s eyes. 

“That feels good,” Xiaojun breathes against his lips, because that’s what he’ll commit to: being open about how he feels. It’s more than he’s committed before, so it’s certainly a step in the right direction. “Touch me more.”

John presses closer, fire beneath his skin as he edges his thigh between each of Xiaojun’s own, and _oh_ that must be nice because he grows taught against the bed, head lolling back. Johnny leans in to lick a hot stripe against his pulse and Xiaojun _whines_.

God— each little noise makes John’s pulse thunder in his ears. Xiaojun kisses at his corner of his mouth and runs his hands up his chest and John outright _moans_ , followed by an embarrassed laugh. Xiaojun hides his grin against his chest, and the spell is broken, only a little, though tenderness glows in both of their chests.

“You do like me,” Xiaojun teases, and when Johnny blushes he slips his fingers beneath his shirt, fingertips trailing over Johnny’s abs in what is only half a comforting gesture and half a revelation.

“Let me suck your cock,” he says, and slips just the tips of his fingers into the top of Johnny’s jeans. He looks up at Johnny, hopeful, and John’s face grows hot all over again. He nods, not stupid enough to say no, but not smart enough to say _anything_. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, only watching him, bemused as Johnny finds his feet and gracelessly loses his jeans.

In seconds Johnny is standing beside the bed, awkwardly kicking off his second sock, and Xiaojun is at eye-level with what looks to be the heaviest cock he has ever seen. It’s not even fully-hard, but it rests thick along the line of Johnny’s lean thigh.

He can’t help it— Xiaojun’s mouth immediately fills with saliva, and he rises up on one hand, reaching out to draw Johnny back into the bed.

“Oh my chest,” he says, tucking a pillow beneath his head and settling into the comforter and trying not to betray his desperation.

“Come on,” he says. Johnny is staring at him.

“Really?” John says, after a beat. He looks nervous, and he palms his cock for something to do with his hands.

“Yeah?” Xiaojun says. “You don’t want to?”

Johnny’s face has grown more red than Xiaojun thought was capable, and it’s endearing.

“I do, that is so… hot? It’s just… I’m a lot bigger than you, I’m not going to crush you, am I?” Xiaojun is encouraging him closer even as Johnny frets, until he’s straddling Xiaojun’s waist and staring down at him. His cock rests across the dip of Xiaojun’s chest and Xiaojun gently takes him in hand to learn the shape of him, to show Johnny how easy this is.

“Oh-“ Johnny breathes, when Xiaojun circles the head with his palm and smears precome down his length. “Your hand feels amazing…” 

Xiaojun thinks John talks like he doesn’t know he’s talking. 

“If you like my hand…” he begins. He urges Johnny a little closer and soon Johnny is kneeling either side of his shoulders, cock held up against his stomach in his hand and Xiaojun leans in until he can lick a hot stripe up Johnny’s length and take him into his mouth. He bats John’s hand away and closes his eyes.

“Fuck-“ Johnny immediately whispers, letting out a harsh breath. “That’s so…” Xiaojun leans back until he can rest his head on the pillow once more and hold Johnny close with his hand on his waist, and this time when Johnny slides in, he’s fucking Xiaojun’s mouth, and it makes his cock thicken with the sudden thrill. 

“Erotic, it’s fucking erotic. Look at you…” Johnny is gentle with him, taking Xiaojun’s lead. Rocking his hips shallowly and rubbing his cock along Xiaojun’s tongue and it feels like a fresh, raw kind of pleasure and Johnny is _alive_.

He finds a very, _very_ gentle rhythm, and Xiaojun suckles until he’s got as much of Johnny in his throat that he can manage. His hands fumble at his own jeans, and his length springs into his palm the moment he gets them undone. He won’t come, but Johnny feels too good on his tongue for Xiaojun not to touch himself.

Johnny is breathing raggedly above him, expression open and vulnerable as he rocks incrementally into Xiaojun’s mouth. His lips are stretched around Johnny, pink and slick. His eyes are glazed and dark and he can’t quite meet Johnny’s gaze as he groans quietly beneath him with pleasure.

“God—I won’t last,” John warns, pulling out and lifting his cock away from Xiaojun’s searching tongue. In a heart-stopping display, Xiaojun lifts his chin, chasing, and Johnny feels each thud of his own heart in his chest like a jackhammer. 

“You’re, like… not real,” he breathes, ineloquent as always, but he’s too enraptured to be embarrassed. He shimmies down Xiaojun’s body until he can slot their mouths together, folding the man beneath him into his arms.

He doesn’t know what drives the longing— maybe it’s the way Xiaojun smells like talc and bitter cherries, or how his lips feel incredible flush against John’s own, but what also does it, is the way he _whimpers_ , barely-audible, breathy things. Christ, John wants to fuck him, wants to treat him like a prince, and draw sorrowful moans from deep in his chest through touch and tongue and teeth until the sun teases them into hiding. John wants to fuck him, but he also wants to hold his hand, even now, and cook for him, take him places, but him nice things.

He feels hot and he breaks away with a gasp, panting in the barest space between them. He catches his breath, and Xiaojun does the same, running his nose along Johnny’s own, slowing down, smiling that small smile John’s become fixated with in the scant few hours they’ve known each other.

He dares to glance up, but Xiaojun’s already assessing him with a curious eye. Johnny breaks out in an embarrassed grin. His hands settle on Xiaojun’s hips, marvelling on the shape of him, lean muscle and impossible angles. He doesn’t know where his sudden nervousness comes from, but somehow, now, he’s not so sure he can follow through with a quick fuck.

Xiaojun must see his hesitancy, and his finger under John’s chin draws him back in.

“Do you want to do this?” He asks, voice steady. His eyes are locked to Johnny’s, and John feels pinned by the dark glimmer in his eyes.

“Yes,” he breathes, blinking slowly. “Yes, god—” He _does_ , he’s hard to the point of discomfort, although kissing has always turned him on, but that’s not what gives him pause.

“You don’t seem sure.” There’s no judgement in Xiaojun’s face, but John doesn’t want him to misunderstand.

“I’m pretty sure. God, I’m hot for you right now-” John sucks in a breath and doesn’t know what he wants to say. “I’m just trying to find my wits,” he drags his hand up and down Xiaojun’s side, tender. “I’m afraid of rushing.”

Xiaojun’s laugh is a soft thing and maybe Johnny is a little too hopeful and a little gullible and about fifty percent convinced he might still get hurt but his heart says this is real, feels real. He’s turned on, he _adores_ this man before him, wants to get to know him. His heart beats a little too-fast. Betraying him.

“Because you like me?” Xiaojun asks, grinning, and Johnny nods, a pinched expression on his face.

“Nothing creepy,” Johnny reassures. “Just, maybe, if you still like me by the end of this, you’d let me take you out for a _real_ coffee, or dinner, even?”

Xiaojun’s assessment of him is like a physical weight. 

“I’m amenable.”

Johnny winds his arms around Xiaojun until they’re flush, until his arm is a warm weight at the base of Xiaojun’s spine, and he can _feel_ how hard John is for him. He buries his face into Xiaojun’s neck. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool…”

Xiaojun laughs and pushes at him, but Johnny finds his mouth again in a searing kiss. Humour fades so quickly Xiaojun feels his stomach drop as pleasure licks at his insides like a small flame.

Johnny leans over him again and palms at his ass, lifting one thigh to curl over his own. He can feel where Xiaojun is still holding himself between them, and Johnny rocks his hips a little to feel the way Xiaojun’s knuckles smooth over his cock.

“Let me sit up,” Xiaojun says, and Johnny does. Xiaojun lifts his knees and turns onto his stomach to press his face into Johnny’s pillows. “Take my jeans off, please,” he asks politely, glancing over his shoulder. Johnny hurries to comply.

When Johnny gets him naked, he shamelessly spreads his thighs, reaching back to hold himself open. His cock hangs dark and swollen between his legs and Johnny palms it, just to feel the shape of him.

“Fingers first, just a little…and I’ll be goo. Do you have lube? There’s no way I could have prepared myself for _that_...” Xiaojun is mumbling into the pillow but Johnny is frozen in place, sitting back on his heels. He thinks if they could, his eyes would just be dizzy little swirls.

“I’m going to have a heart attack,” he says distantly, raising his hands until he can trail his fingers through the slick oozing from Xiaojun’s pink little rim. Xiaojun jolts on the bed, and John feels a primal urge rise up inside of him.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, in lieu of anything smarter to say. He palms Xiaojun open and leans in, tonguing over where he’s wettest. The lube leaves an inorganic, silicone taste in his tongue, but it’s worth it for the whimper as Xiaojun thighs jolt.

“Fuck, get your fingers in me _now_ ,” he begs, and Johnny does as he’s told, running the pads of two fingers over his entrance before dipping them just inside. The image of Xiaojun fingering himself open is playing behind John’s eyelids, and the view of his own thick digits sinking in conflict. His fingers seem dark compared to the pale spread of Xiaojun’s legs.

“Oh,” Xiaojun says when Johnny sinks in down to his knuckles. As Xiaojun promised, it’s not much of a stretch, but he’s still hot and tight around his fingers, and John swears against his skin, hot breaths panted against the back of Xiaojun’s thigh. He scissors his fingers and rocks them in and out, watching as Xiaojun tenses and relaxes beneath him, his cock hanging dusky and pink between his legs.

“Now,” Xiaojun begs, after a few minutes, but Johnny swears he’s not ready. He can’t get far with three fingers, and Johnny is already keenly aware of his own size. He’s been imagining how they’d fit together since they first locked eyes.

“You need more lube,” Johnny pants out, too-turned on and breathless from the way Xiaojun’s body has been sinfully squeezing his fingers and imagining that heat around his cock. He breaks away to rummage in his own bedside table and in his rush to get him ready he spreads cold lube across Xiaojun’s entrance with his fingers. Xiaojun hisses and presses into the bed with a whine.

“Sorry, sorry,” Johnny laments, rolling on a condom with one hand and sinking his fingers back into Xiaojun with the other. He’s gentle, but his hands are shaking with how badly he _wants_.

“John,” Xiaojun says, and Johnny looks up from where he’s been watching his fingers disappear over and over in a daze. “Get in me.” His eyes are devilish, his eyebrows drawn. Johnny swallows, and nods, and Xiaojun’s grin dies on his lips when Johnny eases the blunt head of his cock against Xiaojun’s entrance.

Johnny braces over him, feeling oddly tender and vulnerable and worried. It’s with a laser focus that he edges forward, and Xiaojun is painfully quiet, shoulders growing tense before Johnny's very eyes until he forces himself to stop, because it’s clear Xiaojun’s not going to.

“It hurts,” Johnny states. Xiaojun shakes his head in the pillows, but doesn’t look back at him.

“Honey…” he says, and Xiaojun lets out a breath, deflating beneath him. Johnny rubs his back, smoothing over the tense muscles. 

“Your dick,” Xiaojun huffs, and John colours. “Is fat.” Johnny makes an indignant noise and pinches him in retaliation but Xiaojun can barely manage to even chuckle and Johnny takes pity on him.

“Hey,” John says, easing out slightly, and Xiaojun whines. “Let’s just try this differently…” When he looks down, his cock is red and swollen and _too-big_ against Xiaojun’s winking hole, and he belatedly wonders if this time will end up like so many other times. He wishes it’s the first time he’s had to worry about it, but it’s not, and he’s terrified more than anything that Xiaojun will give up on him, give up on trying. 

When Xiaojun sits up on his knees, Johnny pulls him close, and the searching kiss Xiaojun gives him helps to ease his fears. He reaches back and takes Johnny in hand, lining up again before sitting, head drifting back over Johnny’s shoulder. He’s determined, that much is clear. Johnny’s hands uselessly flit over his waist, hugging him close as Xiaojun relentlessly works himself down on Johnny’s cock.

“Oh, _oh_ ,” Xiaojun gasps and seats himself as best he can. Johnny can feel the way his muscles cramp and grip at him, struggling to adjust. Xiaojun sits on Johnny’s bent knees and rests back against his chest, holding Johnny’s arms around his middle. It’s intimate, and both of them lean against the other, simply being. Johnny kisses along the curve of his shoulder, spreading his hands wherever they can reach until Xiaojun is loose-limbed and relaxed against him.

It’s some time before either of them feel capable of moving, but it’s Xiaojun who does first, lifting up and sinking back down incrementally. A low moan tumbles from Johnny's mouth as Xiaojun begins to piston his hips—inside feels like liquid heat and impossible pressure. The lube is deliciously thin and high quality, and Johnny glides into him, limited only by the way Xiaojun clenches around him. 

“Fuck, yes, c’mon,” Xiaojun’s words come out slurred, and Johnny grips him tighter, tentatively meeting his thrust for the first time. It drives him deep and they both cry out. Xiaojun tightens at the intrusion and John swears he’ll squeeze the life out of him.

“Oh, ohhh,” his words are like silk, trailing down over both of them. “Oh _John_ , fuck, fuck—“ and then, unexpectedly, his whole body grows rigid. His fingernails dig crescents into Johnny’s forearm and with a gasp he sinks back down on Johnny’s cock as deep as he can take him and he comes.

“Oh fuck, ‘jun, are you coming?” Johnny whispers, his disbelief hot against the back of Xiaojun’s neck as he watches his cock jump and spurt, untouched, across the muscles of his stomach. “Oh, look at you…” and Xiaojun whimpers, overstimulated and shivering as Johnny gently takes him in hand to wring the last threads of pleasure from him. Xiaojun’s body is tight around him like a vice grip, and Johnny’s cock throbs from how badly he needs to come.

“I’m sorry,” Xiaojun whispers, voice a wreck as his breathing evens out. “I came so fast, fuck…” and he shifts in Johnny lap to let him know he hasn’t forgotten about him.

Johnny keens and kisses haphazardly. He’s drunk with the way Xiaojun feels against him. He’s content to be connected. Content to have Xiaojun lose control, to let Johnny hold him through it as he unravels in his arms. Johnny kisses his cheek, and breathes him in and begins to move.

“Okay?” He asks, and when Xiaojun nods he tightens his arms around his slender waist and begins to rock shallowly into Xiaojun’s body. He can see the way Xiaojun’s toes curl with sensitivity, but Johnny crests quickly when he feels how Xiaojun tightens around the shape of him, how Johnny barely fits but Xiaojun takes him right to the root anyway.

He laments to condom when Xiaojun begins to whisper filthy encouragements in his ear. “Come in me. Come inside.” And he knows they’re just words, just filthy things that make his blood pressure spike, just play, but he _wants_ that, wants to be as close as he can with Xiaojun. He wonders if he’ll get a chance, maybe, someday.

Xiaojun must be able to feel when he’s close because his voice dips wantonly again, and he squeezes Johnny’s arm tighter around his middle, forcing Johnny close as he fucks himself back on Johnny’s cock. With a choked-off whimper, Johnny lurched forward, burying himself deep as his orgasm topples over him. He whispers soft words against the shell of Xiaojun’s ears, things he won’t remember and wonders if Xiaojun will either. Embarrassing, tender things that Xiaojun hushes him through.

“Oh my god,” he manages after they’ve both stilled, hands running up and down Xiaojun’s sides as his energy starts to leave him. In the perfect, beautiful space where only pure lightness and joy should exist, doubt begins to eek its way in. They met on tindr… is he going to leave? Is that, like, a given? Is he going to walk out Johnny’s door with a wink and a kiss over his shoulder and leave Johnny reeling for weeks over what is probably an irrational level of affection for someone he’s just met?

Xiaojun must be able to hear him thinking, as he begins to shift, and Johnny reluctantly lets him go. They both wince when Xiaojun slips off of his cock, and Johnny ties off the condom before under-handing it into the waste bin. “Sit tight a sec,” he says, and gracelessly finds his feet, wandering off to wet a hand towel and bring it back. Xiaojun lays on his back and lets John clean the come off his stomach, and doesn’t mention the intimacy of it. Johnny doesn’t wonder about whether it was appropriate until he’s on his way back from throwing the towel in the laundry.

He lands on his back on the bed, face already beginning to cloud over with too many thoughts. He put himself out there before they’d even begin. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself. He glances surreptitiously to the side to find Xiaojun is already watching him with narrowed eyes. Johnny flushes, and Xiaojun grins at him like a cat.

“Thinking about how to make your escape?” Johnny ventures, and Xiaojun’s grin widens. With a grunt, Johnny catches him around the middle as Xiaojun rises on one arm and clamours into his lap. Johnny returns the short, chaste kiss he receives, heart unwinding in his chest. A few more are peppered over his eyelids and his cheeks until Johnny is grinning too, all thunderclouds drifting from the dip of his brow.

“Thought I’d stick around a while,” Xiaojun whispers. “I think a cuddle was promised?”

Johnny leans back to raise an eyebrow at him, suspicious. “Yeah?”

“Yeah… It was implied, anyway, you know, when you said you liked me?” Xiaojun’s fingers idle through the light trail of hair across Johnny’s chest, gaze delicately averted. Johnny leans up to kiss a hot line up the column on Xiaojun’s throat, incensed and bothered by how desperately he wants Xiaojun in his bed like this each and every day. For Xiaojun to tease him like this.

“Or I could always take a rain check for tomorrow?” Xiaojun laughs, and Johnny breaths him in, dragging Xiaojun down until he can nip at his lips and hold his face.

“How about now?” Johnny whispers, and kisses him, unhurried. 

“You did call me _magnetic_ ,” Xiaojun murmurs, growing languid in his arms. He smiles against John’s mouth and John feels a pang or affection, a rightness in the way they’re pressed together, in the way Xiaojun fits in his arms.

“Today, a cuddle,” he says, “And tomorrow too.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/prittleceebs)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.me/prittleceebs)


End file.
